Liv reluctantly acknowledged what she’d been hiding all her adult life. She was a weapon, a canon for her warship to call upon when needed. They were lethal because they’d been designed just like the warship itself, and given Amelia’s hatred of all AIs, Vengeance could be in danger.
His human-form drone burst into the hangar bay from a side corridor just as the transport’s engines and weapon systems came online.
Liv’s mind instinctively sought out the drone’s and she cried, “Ven, get down!”
Her warning must have reached him over the noise of the transport’s engines because his drone ducked behind the nearest sentinel moments before the transport’s weapons came online and opened fire on his sentinels.
The deafening noise momentarily stunned Liv. Three sentinels charged out from behind the transport’s landing struts and Liv dove at the other woman, tackling her to the ground moments before weapons fire streaked over their heads. Amelia grabbed her arm and physically dragged her up the gangplank and into the transport. Behind them, the gangplank closed and locked just before the nearest sentinels were able scramble inside after them.
“Come on,” Amelia said. “Time to get out of here. Your boyfriend apparently wants you back pretty badly.”
The rapid, sustained sound of weapons fire against the ship’s hull continued as the flashing lights of the hangar bay’s blast doors indicated they were opening.
An energy shield across the opening would prevent depressurization, but with all the weapons fire exchanged between the sentinels and the transport, there was no telling if it would hit something integral.
Amelia pushed Liv toward the left cockpit seat then collapsed into the seat on the right. With a few mental commands, the transport’s engines surged, lifting the ship a few feet off the deck. Amelia pivoted to face the hangar bay door. Several sentinels and Vengeance’s drone blocked the way.
And a shocked drone stared back at her.
“Damn, he’s annoying,” Amelia muttered as she targeted the drone.
“No!” Liv screamed, merging more firmly with the ship’s controls. The transport rushed forward out of the hangar bay before Amelia could target the drone again. A crunch of metal and an unsettling grating from the underbelly of the ship told her she’d either clipped a couple of the sentinel units, or they’d attempted to latch onto the transport.
“Who taught you how to fly?” Amelia growled. “You better not have damaged my new ship. The shields weren’t even up yet.”
As the transport ship dove into the darkness of space, Liv put her head back against the seat and closed her eyes.
They’d done it. She’d helped her childhood friend escape. But at what cost to her own life? And at what cost to Ven’s?
It took a lot to shock a 3125-year-old AI, but Vengeance was shocked deep down to his primary core. The pirate was an unsanctioned telepath. He’d never known such a thing to happen before because people weren’t born with telepathic gifts. And, worse, she’d been able to hide her telepathy from him.
How was that even possible?
But as much as Harper’s telepathy puzzled him, it was nothing compared to his discovery that she wasn’t the only one.
Liv was also a telepath. A powerful telepath.
In the micro-second it had taken him to understand Liv had been hiding her telepathy, he’d also realized she’d never been a prisoner. She didn’t have a vendetta against the pirate. Liv had been working with the other woman the entire time.
The pain of betrayal had snapped through his primary core, triggering other unhealthy emotions that threatened to further compromise his ability to reason. But those feelings battled with his need to protect Liv, no matter what. He had no idea what had compelled her to help Harper in the first place, but she was clearly conflicted. Her bio-signs had assured him that she wasn’t under any significant physical duress, but she’d seemed trapped between competing worlds.
But somehow, Olivia Hawthorne, his journeyman engineer, had kept her telepathy a secret for over six months. Even most link-level telepaths lacked the control required to keep a gift that strong hidden. Up until now, he would have insisted it was impossible.
And it was impossible for normal telepaths.
But what if some of the enhanced Nuallan telepaths had actually survived the attack? After all, Liv and Harper were the right age.
His primary core sparked with an eagerness to track and hunt. He’d lost two more of his sentinels as the women escaped, but they’d managed to damage the transport—not enough that the damage put Liv in danger, but enough that they’d have to dock with a station and attend to the repairs. It would give him the time he needed.
Once he had his own drives back online, he’d find the two telepaths and turn over the pirate to Spire command. She could become someone else’s problem.
As for Liv, she was his, and he had no intention of giving her to anyone. He told himself it was mostly because he needed answers, but it seemed AIs weren’t much better at lying to themselves than they were at lying to others. She’d betrayed him to help the pirate, but she’d also warned him that Harper was about to fire at his drone. Surely that meant something?
Once he separated Liv from the influence of the pirate, he’d be able to learn the truth. He’d storm all her defenses until she confessed everything to him—and he wouldn’t have to harm one cell in her body to do it.
More importantly, as soon as he had her back on board, he could find out if she were not only a survivor from Nualla but if she’d once been his intended link. He might have purged his memories of the girl, but maybe he hadn’t lost her after all.
And if he were right, he sure as hell wasn’t going to lose her again.
Chapter Fourteen
Ven sat in front of the chessboard and absentmindedly rearranged the pieces.
“Want to play?” Renee asked.
His drone jumped and scowled at his link. “Play what?”
He’d been so focused on the fact Liv was a telepath that Renee had startled him. No one had surprised him in centuries. Clearly, he was off his game. Renee blinked at him, and her eyebrows pulled together. “Usually, when a person has a chessboard in front of them and a queen in their hand, the assumption would be chess.”
“Chess,” Ven repeated quietly, but his mind returned to Liv and the fact that she was the second unsanctioned telepath he’d discovered over the past few days. She had to be Nuallan. There wasn’t another explanation. He sighed and dropped the queen into the middle of the board. “She helped the prisoner escape, Renee. But all I can think about is how I failed her. Her bio-readings were so conflicted. I don’t think she wanted to betray me or desert her duties to the Spire.”
“Vengeance,” Renee scolded, “don’t do this to yourself. She’s responsible for her own decisions.”
“I should have realized she was hiding something,” he argued. “I think she would have confided in me if I’d known and pressed her for the truth…”
“No,” Renee insisted, sitting across from him and putting the pieces back where they belonged. “She didn’t help that pirate escape because of anything you did or didn’t do.”
Ven lifted his chin in the air and tried to pretend he was indifferent to Renee’s words. But there was something off about them… and her body language. Ven narrowed his eyes at her. Had Renee known who Liv and Harper really were? If so, why hadn’t she told him? If she was withholding information, it had to be for a good reason, and he planned to find out what that was.
“Any reason you haven’t had Liv replaced yet?” Renee asked.
Ven crossed his arms and shot back, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Renee shrugged. “Normally, when you lose a crewmember, you request a replacement immediately. Olivia Hawthorne has been gone for almost thirty-six hours, yet you haven’t filled her position?”
“I’ve been busy,” Ven lied. He really was a bad liar.
But Renee nodded anyway. “Yes. Quite busy feeling sor
ry for yourself.”
“Renee,” Ven warned.
“Vengeance,” she warned back. “We both know Liv didn’t want to hurt you.”
“Right,” he scoffed. “Just like Jillian never meant to hurt me, but it’s not her fault I’m not human. Is this some sisterhood thing between women or just the natural human proclivity to recite bullshit?”
“That,” Renee replied, her voice hard and sharply edged, “is uncalled for. Don’t take your pain out on me. You know I never condoned Jillian’s affair.”
Ven swallowed, realizing too late how cruel he’d been to his best friend, and lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry, Renee. You know I didn’t mean that.”
“Of course I do. And even the almighty Vengeance makes mistakes.”
Ven tried to smile for her sake but failed. He’d vowed never to allow himself to become attached to anyone again, and aside from Renee, he’d succeeded for the past three centuries. Or thought he had. But from the moment Liv had stepped onboard, he’d been drawn to her, finding reason after reason to drag her out of the privacy of her room, just because he wanted to see her again.
The past few months definitely hadn’t been filled with his prouder moments. And now he knew why, if Liv were actually one of the Nuallan telepaths. On some level he’d known and responded to her.
He was speculating, of course, but it wasn’t hard to piece it all together. Now he just wondered how much Renee knew or suspected.
“That pirate is a telepath,” Ven said then watch Renee for any reaction. “Did you know?”
“I had my suspicions,” Renee admitted. “But since I didn’t talk to her myself, I didn’t have a chance to confirm anything.”
Renee moved a pawn even though he’d never agreed to play, so he shoved the entire chessboard aside and leaned his elbows on the table. “Did you suspect Liv was also a telepath?”
Renee pushed some of her gray hair behind an ear and took a deep breath. “Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it wasn’t my place,” Renee said with a heavy sigh.
“Wasn’t your place? They’re telepaths and they have a duty to the Spire Empire. And all members of the Empire owe those young telepaths respect and protection. How could you not tell me?”
Renee leaned back in her chair and rolled her fingertips on the table, both aggravated and sympathetic, but why she’d be aggravated eluded him. “You assume all girls bred for the Spire appreciate their existence?”
“I assume it’s a better alternative than imprisonment or death. The universe is a dangerous place,” he answered. “The Spire Empire requires both its telepaths and its AIs to serve without question for the survival of all. Personal desire must come second.”
“I realize that. And most girls are raised with a healthy understanding of their importance to us all. But as I’ve tried telling you before, some people have complex pasts.”
“You’re being cryptic again,” Ven muttered.
“If Liv and Harper are Nuallan telepaths, imagine for a moment how they left that planet and what they endured afterward,” Renee responded.
As usual, Renee was right. If any of those girls had escaped the planet, they’d done so in a rogue ship. And since the Spire thought they were dead, no one would have ever looked for them.
He could only imagine the horror they must have suffered at the hands of the rogues. No wonder the survivors were in hiding, too afraid to reveal themselves for fear of being forced to become a link for another AI. And yet Liv had returned to the Spire. Had she intentionally sought him out, or was he just the first ship to take her on?
He did have a way to discover who Liv and Harper really were—or weren’t. All he had to do was access the Spire’s archive node in orbit around the home world, absorb his lost memories, and then he’d have his answers.
But what if he were wrong? Did he want those memories back?
No. He didn’t think he did.
But even if Liv wasn’t his intended link, she was a telepath and deserved his protection.
If Vengeance couldn’t give Liv anything else, he’d give her a safe place to heal and whatever comfort she could glean from his friendship. In time, if she were willing to offer more, he’d explore that, slowly, so neither of them suffered again.
Somewhat ruefully, he realized he owed Harper that same consideration and protection. Maybe if she hadn’t tried to inflict maximum damage to his hangar bay, or more importantly, stolen Liv from him, he might be feeling more generous toward Harper. Sighing, he begrudgingly admitted he’d help Harper, too, if she’d let him.
But his first priority was to his crewmember. It was important that Liv learn to trust him, and he didn’t think she could do that if he approached their relationship as AI and potential link. So for Liv’s sake, he’d turn a blind eye to her probable origins, not mention her telepathy slip when she’d warned his drone during the battle in the hangar bay, and simply offer to be a friend.
“Ven,” Renee offered, drawing him back to the conversation as she reached across the table and took his hand, “We’re pursuing the fugitives. And when we find them, we’ll get the answers you need.”
Ven stared at their hands on the table and flinched at hearing Liv labeled a fugitive. But now that she’d helped the pirate escape, that was exactly what she’d be if he let the truth slip during his next hive-mind sync. Some truths were better hidden.
For now, he’d continue his hunt, find Liv, and bring her back where she would be safe from the rest of the universe. Even if she wanted nothing to do with him, he’d make sure she was safe. It was the least he could do for any of those girls. He’d failed them all—not just the one who would have been his link.
The stolen vessel landed on the relatively barren planet in a sickening collision with a canyon wall. Although the hull had almost certainly sustained significant damage, Liv maintained hope the engines would be operable, but it didn’t look like this planet would offer them the materials they’d need for repairs.
Liv removed her safety harness and pointed toward one of the screens on the dashboard. “How bad is it?”
“Can’t tell,” Amelia answered. “And the navigation system was damaged during our escape from Vengeance, so I have no idea where we are. But our choices were to land here or get sucked into this sun’s gravitational pull, and needless to say, that wouldn’t have ended well for us.”
“Amelia—”
“I go by Harper now. And you’re the one who’s been pretending to be some expert engineer, so grab your gear and let’s see if we can’t get this ship running again.”
Liv rolled her eyes, but grabbed her bag and followed Harper off the deck. “I’m pretending to be Olivia Hawthorne, but I do know my job. And I’m quite good at it.”
Harper glanced at her and shrugged. “You’ve always been smart and a fast learner. Doesn’t change the fact you broke our pledge.”
“Harper,” Liv pleaded, “when we escaped Basilisk and the others, we made that promise because we were traumatized. And I haven’t used my telepathy nor did I reveal I was bred to be a link.”
Harper suddenly turned on her, forcing Liv to stumble backward. “We made that pledge because no AI can be trusted. They all want us as their slaves! Even your Vengeance is trying to guilt Renee into working for him longer. He’s refusing to let her go.”
“He isn’t forcing her to do anything,” Liv argued. “Renee started aging when I was a child, and he hasn’t slowed or reversed that process. She wants to grow old and die, and he’s letting her.”
“You would defend him,” Harper hissed. “It’s like you forgot what they did to us.”
“Of course I remember,” Liv snapped. “Not all of us survived. And those who did suffered a different sort of death.”
Harper spun around again and grabbed a suit from the wall then shoved it toward Liv. “So imagine my surprise when I discover the girl who helped to free us voluntarily returned to her former AI.”
Liv clutched the suit in her hands and exclaimed, “He doesn’t even know who I am! And I’m never going to tell him.”
“Right,” Harper scoffed. “And I’m sure Renee hasn’t figured it out.”
Liv’s face warmed, and she pulled the environmental suit over her clothes then secured her helmet in place. She suspected Renee knew, but for some reason, she hadn’t told Ven. “It doesn’t matter anymore,” she mumbled. “Didn’t I just prove my loyalty will always be to you and our sisters? I can never go back to my life aboard Vengeance now.”
Harper tossed her dark hair over her shoulder and pulled the environmental suit on. “You should have destroyed him. They should all be destroyed.” She hit the control panel to open the door and jumped onto the rocky terrain of the nameless planet, but Liv was too stunned to move. Destroy Vengeance?
She’d rather die. She’d rather fall into the hands of Basilisk again and suffer his invasion into her mind.
And she’d defend Vengeance against anyone… even her best friend.
“Move it, Journeyman Engineer,” Harper called. “We have a three-foot gash in the hull’s underbelly, thanks to one of Vengeance’s sentinels. We’re lucky the shields protected us during reentry.”
Liv stood at the edge of the ship, staring down at her friend, and put her hands on her hips. “You’re only a captain because I helped kill Agrona, so stop pretending you outrank me.”
“And you’re only a journeyman engineer because you created a fake identity for yourself, so stop pretending you outrank me,” Harper retorted.
Liv kicked her tools onto the ground. “Fair enough.”
Harper pointed to the gash in the underside of the ship and asked, “You can fix this, right?”
Vengeance (Warships of the Spire Book 1) Page 10